


Spin

by Jerevinan



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Dorks in Love, M/M, Pole Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 17:43:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11833797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jerevinan/pseuds/Jerevinan
Summary: There’s a metal pole in Noctis’ bedroom that he only sees as an inconvenience. When it’s brought up that it could be used to put on a show, Noctis knows it can’t go well, but it might be worth trying out.





	Spin

**Author's Note:**

> In Brotherhood ep 4, when Ignis peers into Noct’s trashed room, I noticed what looked like a pole. But later in the episode, there’s something like it in the living room…and it’s a lamp. All the same, it gave me ideas and I ran with it.

The pole in Noctis’ bedroom isn’t even there for structural support. The architect included it in the modern design of the apartment. Most days, Noctis no longer notices it’s there. During his first few weeks in his new apartment, he had many run-ins with it. But after three years of staying in the same apartment, it’s instinct to avoid it.

Noctis feels indifference toward the pole these days.

It isn’t until Noctis leans against it, shrugging off his jeans, that Ignis reminds him of its presence.

“There are much sexier ways to use that pole,” says Ignis from the bed.

Noctis pushes away from it and glances over his shoulder. “This dumb thing?”

Ignis’ face turns crimson. “Ah, never mind.” 

Free of his jeans, Noctis lowers a knee to the bed and crawls toward Ignis. As he closes in on him, he brushes a finger across his lips, light as a paintbrush. 

“Mm, you should tell me what you meant,” says Noctis.

“Well, it’s just.” Ignis leans his head back, exposing enough neck for Noctis to take the opportunity to nip at the flesh. Ignis’ resulting gasps vibrate against Noctis’ lips, humming through his teeth. “You could use the pole. Dance.”

Noctis backs away and snorts. “Dance? You know I can’t dance. At all.” 

By the gods, half the Citadel has _tried_ to teach him. Noctis can perform the bare minimum necessary not to step on his partner’s toes. He can’t move with the fluidity he has seen in Ignis when he takes over the floor. It doesn’t help that Noctis’ leg seizes up at odd moments. By the end of the song, he wants to collapse into bed screaming from pain. 

“You know how well that would go if I pole danced.” Noctis laughs. “I’d lift my leg around it, and instead of looking sexy, I’d get a cramp.”

He can already feel it, and it hasn’t happened yet.

Ignis strums his fingers down Noctis’ chest with deliberate slowness. “It was a silly thought. I _did_ say ‘never mind’.” 

“As if that doesn’t make me want to know _more_.”

Ignis chuckles and combs his fingers through Noctis’ hair, drawing him closer. Their lips meet, and Ignis still tastes like the pastries they had half an hour ago for dessert. They’re still not perfect—if only Noctis can remember why—but they were delicious. Ignis’ kiss is sweet like the peaches in each tart.

“What if you did it?” asks Noctis as they break away for a breath.

Ignis, with his glasses askew and his cheeks smattered with pink, widens his eyes. “I’m afraid I’d be terrible.”

“No worse than me.”

“Ah…well.”

Noctis pokes his chest. “Royal order. Dance for me.”

“Only if you return the favor.”

“Fine.” He kisses Ignis once more before he scoots off the bed. He sweeps his arms in the direction of the pole. “You first.”

Ignis stands, thumbing at the elastic of his boxer briefs. “Should I leave these on?”

“Yeah. Might be more comfortable.”

“Agreed.” 

Noctis takes a seat in his desk chair and scoots it back to get a good view. Ignis’ hands clamp around the pole, one above the other. His leg lifts, the muscles in his thigh stretching tight. Even if this turns out to be ridiculous, it isn’t hard to appreciate the view. 

“Noct, this is ridiculous.”

“Keep going. Pretend it’s me.”

Ignis lets out a long sigh, broken as if he were rolling down a staircase as he let it out. He adjusts his hips, leaning them in toward the bar, moving his pelvis and torso in such a way that makes Noctis cup his stirring cock through his underwear.

Ignis’ cheeks are flushed and he dips his head down. His hips move with the experience of their lovemaking. This is a new angle for Noctis to appreciate—he gets to see the way Ignis’ muscles ripple as his hips circle at the pole. How did Noctis miss how slim and strong Ignis’ thighs were? 

“Spin,” Noctis whispers.

Ignis doesn’t do a great job of it—he doesn’t seem to know where to put his feet or hands, and only swings about ninety degrees. But it’s enough. Noctis has a full view of Ignis’ ass. Even through his underwear, he can see the muscles at work. 

Noctis rises to his feet, hands falling to Ignis’ hips. He presses his erection against Ignis’ backside.

“It’s your turn,” says Ignis, his voice thicker than usual.

“Right.”

Noctis has no idea what he’s doing as he places his hands on the pole. Patches of it are still warm from Ignis’ touch, but the rest is cool against his palms. He closes his eyes and tries to imagine he’s wrapping around Ignis. _A ridiculously thin, metal Ignis._

“Open your eyes, Noct,” says Ignis, letting out a soft laugh. “I can still see you no matter what.”

Noctis opens them. He raises one arm against the pole, kicking a leg out behind him. “Mmm, like what you see, Ignis?”

He’s laughing before he can finish the line, so hard his grip loosens. He falls, landing on his backside. 

It doesn’t hurt too much, but Ignis rushes to his aid.

“Are you all right?”

“That was dumb.” Noctis rubs his butt. As he lifts his head, Ignis tucks his fingers under his chin and pulls him in for a kiss. 

It doesn’t last long. Ignis pops him on the backside playfully. “Try again, if you will.”

“Falling doesn’t get me out of it?” asks Noctis, grinning as he takes hold of the bar once again. He presses his cheek to the metal and slowly pretends to lick the surface, taking care not to let his tongue touch it.

It has the desired effect. He can see the breath rise in Ignis’ chest, the hungry need in his dilating pupils. Noctis runs his tongue across his lips before he gently thrusts against the pole. He tests it a few times, attempting to go slow, but he doesn’t have the same flow as Ignis. It’s no different than attempting to waltz at all those dreadful soirees.

But it’s enough, because Ignis loves him. Even this stupid, silly side of him that agreed to this—which, if he’s honest, hasn’t been without benefit. 

He loves Ignis more than he can put into dumb words.

Noctis releases the pole and flings his arms around Ignis’ chest. The embrace is reciprocated with a chuckle from Ignis.

“Was that good enough?” asks Noctis.

“Perfect. You were lovely.”

“I was stupid. I fell.”

Ignis skims his fingers through Noctis’ hair. “Why don’t we move our dance to the bed? It’s padded.”

Noctis snatches a condom packet from his bedside table and frees himself of his underwear. Ignis takes the hint and steps out of his, tossing them to the side with the kick of his lovely leg. 

Ignis lowers onto the bed on his back. Perfect. Noctis kneels near his feet and leans in, smoothing his hands along those well-trained calves and thighs. Fingers explore every light scar, every muscle. He leaves a path of kisses in his wake, from ankle to the inner thighs. The heat of Ignis’ arousal is hot against his lips.

Ignis reaches out and digs his fingernails into Noctis’ scalp as his breath hitches. Noctis fumbles for the lubricant that’s been waiting on the bed since before they started. As he works in a generous dollop, warming it before he enters, Ignis rests his legs on Noctis’ shoulders. Noctis wraps his hand around one and eases his cock inside Ignis before using that same hand to close around Ignis’ dick.

He goes in as gently as he can. He waits out the light cramp in his leg and the way it crawls up his back, sliding deeper only when he thinks the pain has mostly subsided. Their lovemaking this time starts slow, building its way up. The two of them find a rhythm, Ignis thrusting upward toward Noctis as he bucks his hips, his hand sliding down Ignis’ shaft as they go. 

Ignis orgasms first, coming across his own chest. Noctis pauses as he does so to listen to his cries rather than hear the slapping of their skin. Ignis comes down from his orgasm with his teeth against his bottom lip. It only makes him more beautiful.

Noctis uses his other hand to take hold of Ignis’ other leg and sets a faster pace. Loses himself, loses all sense of the room around them, until he can feel the tension of his muscles wash out of him.

His cries are much louder in the room—enough to echo. He can hear them roaring in his ear as he orgasms. Ignis snatches his hand and squeezes it as they meet halfway for a brief kiss. 

After Noctis pulls out, Ignis scoots closer to the wall, leaving room for Noctis to settle down beside him. Fingers trace loving circles on Noctis’ bicep as they lie together. 

“I doubt anyone can say the prince pole danced for them,” says Ignis after some time.

Noctis kisses his jawline. “Don’t tell anyone. Not even Gladio.”

“If I did, I would have to admit my own erroneous attempt.” 

“It wasn’t that bad. At least you didn’t fall on your ass.” Noctis wouldn’t even mind another show, but he knows if he asks for one, it’ll require a fair trade. He’s not sure he wants to make a fool of himself twice for the same thing. 

He might look at the pole a little differently from now on. It holds new, better memories than bumping his shoulder or bashing his toes against it. Instead of cursing the architect, he has a reason to thank them. Every time he sees that pole, he’ll have the memory of Ignis swaying his hips against it—a memory that makes him kind of happy it’s there.


End file.
